


the games that big boys play

by thatotherperv



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Grudge Fuck, M/M, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-30
Updated: 2008-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave resents Jensen.  But not because he's young and pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the games that big boys play

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes/Warnings** : mostly focused on Dave/Jensen and a wee bit of one-sided Dave/Jared, but implied j2 too, if you squint. Which most of you do, you squinty little squinters. And of course, I just assume Chris is fucking everyone. Why not.
> 
> written for Meretrix, who seriously deserves something new and shiny and probably better than this for putting me through my paces on easyverse. A while back she wrote me some [Dave/Jensen](http://madame-meretrix.livejournal.com/21330.html) (actually, Dave/Jensen/Chris, which is even more win) because the idea made me *drool*, and I've been meaning to return the favor for a while.
> 
> so I sat down today and this sort of fell out of my brain. the parallels between their careers have been on my mind a while, but I have no idea where the rest came from, haha. I've been a writing MACHINEEE. :) Hopefully the inclusion of Dave will lead some of my buffyverse friends to forgive me my wandering eye. *puppy face*
> 
> Original post [here](http://thatotherperv.livejournal.com/228252.html)

  
He makes Dave a little defensive.

It's not because he's pretty. Pretty's a dime a dozen in Hollywood. Pretty won't get the kid off a genre show on a third-rate network and into an actual career. Dave's been there. Three years into a cult following and you think you've finally made it, only the movie offers are still shit and there's a sadistic writer cackling in the wings as they send you to Hell.

Literally.

Pretty won't get you any-goddamn-where, and the kid's in a dangerous spot, whether he knows it or not.

So no, Dave doesn't envy him the pretty. Or the young. If you don't know how to use them, pretty and young are just two more liabilities in this town. Valuable commodities that paint a big old bulls-eye on your ass for everyone to see.

The thing is, the kid's good. Good in a way that Dave sure as hell wasn't, his first big break.

"You keep staring like that, Jaime's gonna scratch that boy's eyes out."

He spares a glance at Chris. "I don't know why you had to invite that fucker."

"The lady doth protest."

"This lady's gonna shove a beer bottle up your—"

"Hey now, no need to get ugly. Kid needed a distraction, man. He's terrified they're writin' him off the show."

Dave snorts. "Must be dumber than he looks." They'd have to be suicidal, but damned if he's gonna admit that.

"Goddamn, I ain't seen you this catty in a while. Not since—"

"—Shut up—"

"Not since they brought Jimmy on to bump up your ratings. Say, your show's takin' a bit of a—"

"Chris, I swear to fucking _God_ —"

"—nose-dive right now, bet if you ask _real_ nice, Jensen'll use some of his newfound freedom to bail you out. Again."

Crazy bastard laughs even harder with a bloody lip. Color him surprised.

* * *

He's enjoying an angry cigarette on the back patio when he hears a noise. Jaime's been on his back for the last hour because Chris bled on the white Berber carpeting, and then spilled some beer for spite. Contrary fucker.

The shine came off this party for Dave a while ago, and he's glad everyone else is hiding in the air conditioning, even though the lingering heat is prickling his temper, and his skin.

Which just makes him wonder if the sound he hears around the side of the house is a guest or two sneaking off to hoard a few of their own favors. And if they are, they better be sharing. _Something_ has to make this night better.

It's just Jensen. Not drinking, not smoking, just standing in his sideyard with his hands in his pockets. The kid looks over before Dave can duck back and away.

So he goes on the offensive, and squints into the dark.

"What the fuck are you doin' out here, man?"

Jensen's eyes are wide and startled. He shrugs. "Oh, uh. Just needed some air."

"You're hiding by my trash can."

He gets a sheepish grin. "That too." He holds out a hand. "Jensen Ackles."

 _You have got to be kidding me_. "I know who you are, dipshit."

"Damn, dude. What crawled up your ass?"

"Chris," he says. No hesitation.

The laugh he earns is bright and unrestrained. "Ok. In that case, I sympathize. I didn't even wanna leave the house tonight, bastard dragged me kicking and screaming." He catches himself, and finishes lamely: "…Not that uh. Great party."

So when Dave laughs, it's not entirely unkind. He pulls out another cigarette and waves the pack in Jensen's direction. "Want one?"

"No, thanks, man, I don't smoke."

Dave snorts. "Just say no." He clings to being an asshole with purpose.

It's more annoyance than embarrassment when Jensen shrugs and looks away.

"So I'm pretty sure Jared has a crush on you."

It startles a laugh out of him. "What?"

Jensen coughs and leans back against the house. "Oh, uh. Nothing."

Dave takes a drag and thinks. "The other kid on your show, right?"

"God, he's gonna kill me," he mutters. "Just, man, if you only knew how many hours of _Buffy_ I've had to sit through."

And he can't stop the grin. "Could be Sarah." His tone is immodest.

"Maybe," Jensen says, but he's skeptical.

"Yeah, well. Tell your friend I don't fuck anybody I can't top."

Jensen stares at him. Looks like he's getting ready to say something, and then changes his mind. "I should go collect Chris, before he gets himself in any more trouble."

"Hey listen," Dave says finally, because he's not a complete dick. Jensen's triggered the floodlight, and he squints against the LED brightness. "I heard about the finale. We all been there, but it's genre, man. Just a ratings-grabber."

A moment later Jensen nods. "Yeah I know. Thanks, man."

Dave waves him off and lets him go, mildly annoyed that he said anything at all.

* * *

Next time Dave really sees Jensen, he's doing a guest-spot on their show.

He wasn't really planning on ever touching genre again, because that was a hard typecast to shake. But plans change, and this isn't him desperate for any part anyone will throw at him. His agent swears it's just visiting his roots. Kripke's collecting Buffy alums like Easter eggs. Looks good to his fan-base, so it's the least he can do.

When he arrives on set, both guys are hanging out by craft services stuffing their faces like he still could at their age. Before the knee.

Jared Padalecki pumps his hand and grins, swears he's a big fan and says "awesome" four times in a row. Dave shares a look with Jensen, and Jared gives his costar a good-natured body bump when he snickers.

"Am I missing something?"

"Naw, man. Nothing at all."

* * *

He's scheduled to be on-set for three days. His character is a little bit of a schmuck…by appearances a hapless victim, but he turns out to have a brass pair in the end, and he lives in Cleveland with a little blond wife. He's sure the fans will have a field day with that and the Shanshu.

He'd forgotten the pain of a nocturnal show, but the first day of filming flies. The guys are professional as hell and there's a rhythm there that's absent on his own show, these days. Hell, there would have to be…these two, together all the time. Otherwise they'd have killed each other by now.

Dave's current post-shooting routine involves less beer and more Icy-Hot, but when the guys drag him down the road for a few wind-down drinks, he doesn't object.

None of them are anything _nearly_ approaching intoxicated, so that doesn't explain why Jared's clinging like a monkey and looking at Dave like _that_ , licking his lips.

When Dave looks to Jensen, the asshole just laughs into his beer.

Either way, he escapes the evening's activities unscathed and sacks out hard for a whole six hours of rest. The next day, they're scheduled to shoot day scenes.

He arrives in wardrobe to find a cane and orthopedic shoes laid out in place of his costuming.

"Dude, that is the lamest attempt at pranking I've ever seen."

Jared just smirks. "Whatever, old man. We just didn't want things too exciting for you first thing in the morning."

The rest of the day is filled with shorted sheets and chili powder on toothbrush bristles and a hole in the ass of Jensen's jeans, and Kim waving his arms in exasperation. That night Dave slips a page or two into Jared's script full of sub-par porno dialogue where Sam molests his big brother. Jared shows up grinning the next morning, and when he shows Jensen why, he laughs till he damn near wets himself.

"God," he gasps finally. "They wish."

And Dave's still king.

* * *

  
"Dude." Dave slaps another twenty on the bar and looks over his shoulder to make sure he hasn't been followed. "You've got to tell your buddy to lay off."

Jensen grins, eyes straying back to Jared, dominating the booth in a comfortable sprawl of limbs. "Jared? Nobody tells Jared anything, man."

"You're telling me. Fucker is persistent, man. It's a little obnoxious."

If he was suspicious before, the way Jensen bites back a laugh and tries to look all too casual seals it. "Ok, what the hell is going on. Is this a prank?"

Jensen bites his lip. "More like a bet?"

"A fucking bet."

"Ex _act_ ly. A fucking bet."

Dave shakes his head. Laughs and pushes a generous bill back to the bartender in exchange for his drink.

"But you haven't even been playing along."

Jensen shrugs. "Sometimes it's best to let Jay do all the work for me. Like waiting for a dog to flush out the quail."

Dave's not sure whether to be amused or irate at being compared to overpriced chicken. "So, you know, how pissed is he gonna be if you win without ever trying?"

When their eyes meet, there's something warm and serious on Jensen's face. Dave's sure it's there on his.

"Very."

"Well I'm sold, how bout you?"

* * *

  
They laugh all the way back to Jensen's, about the way Jared sputtered and the pissy Sam-like scrunch of his face.

"Oh, he's gonna be a little bitch, tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll kiss and make up."

The look Jensen shoots is a little indecipherable, behind his grin. He shrugs. "Just brace yourself for a stalker, dude. Now he's got something to prove."

Dave's tone is dismissive. "He's just not my type."

"Man, Jared is _everybody's_ type."

He wonders briefly who the kid thinks he's fooling, and if it includes himself. But he doesn't wait around at Jensen's to see if their leaving together was just to call Jared's bluff.

Jensen grunts when he lands on his back on the sofa, hums when Dave attacks his mouth. It's sloppy and rushed and almost like a prelude to grudge-fucking, except Dave's not sure why he disliked the kid on principle, before. He rides Dave's thigh like he's waiting for it, like he's been wanting it, and it's gonna get it, sooner rather than later.

Dave kneels up to unlatch his belt, and when his pants are caught on his knees, Jensen grabs his shirt and yanks him forward. Wraps those fuckable lips around his cock and the head rubs the roof of his mouth. Steals Dave's breath. The kid moans when he puts his hips into it, and yeah, it's a sound full of artifice but it feels fucking amazing, and looks even better, him laying there, taking it.

He should have done this along time ago, and god- _fucking_ -dammit, he hates it when Chris is right.

Jensen's rubbing his cock through his boxers in time with his own noisy slurps, and by the time his body is tense with the need to come, Dave's done playing games. He swings off the couch and drops his pants, busy with the condom while Jensen does the same. He's braced against the backrest when Dave throws aside the slick, watching over his shoulder as Dave presses forward, testing, before he slams home.

"Oho _god_. Yes." His head drops to his forearm, fist clenching. "Fuck. Yeah."

And maybe it is a grudge fuck, just a little. It feels good to go hard and fast, to wrench all those little sounds out of Jensen's chest. To watch the muscles in his arms cord in pleasure and pain. Maybe it's a little bit of beating his chest with both fists and hollering to the wind.

But it's also the fucking best orgasm he's had in weeks.

They're both sweaty and satisfied when they collapse, Dave taking a little too long to reach for his pants and yank them back over his hips. He leaves the condom on the kid's floor, and smirks to himself.

"Alright." It's quick getting ready to go out the door, because he never so much as got his shoes off. "Ackles. It's been fun."

If the kid's put out by Dave's display of dominance, he doesn't show it. He looks about ready to slide into sleep.

Dave chooses to take that as a compliment.

"Hey," Dave remembers. "So what'd you win?"

"Mm?" He waits for Jensen to blink himself awake. Scrub at his face. "Oh, um. Jared's Nintendo Wii."

Dave snorts, shakes his head and walks out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> *clicks heels*
> 
> I have no idea how the Bones ratings are doing, that was just me lashing out for what they did to my lil Zacky-poo. hahaha. I also know nothing about Jaime, apologies that she comes off as a harpie. We can just write it off to Dave being in a bad mood, anyhow.


End file.
